


dog tag

by Kokicni



Series: Oumasai Oneshots [5]
Category: DRV3, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Danganronpa, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, danganronpa v3 - Fandom, ndrv3
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Hurt, Its more like, Kissing, M/M, Oh also, Ok I lied, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, Sad, They're a bit OOC, They're not in a committed relationship, This Is Sad, but they're romantically involved, failed comfort i suppose, kinda insinuative, oh and, pg saihara is NOT toxic, pre-game, shut up everyone im trying to BREATHE, they deserve(d) better, this is BULLSHIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 05:39:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19266922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kokicni/pseuds/Kokicni
Summary: saihara can't wait till they're finally able to audition for danganronpa.ouma secretly hopes the day never comes.they need to talk about this.





	dog tag

**Author's Note:**

> not for oumasai week 2019 on twitter, but the prompt did inspire this a tad bit.  
> also i love sweaty boy shushu as much as the next person, but consider this:  
> pre-game saihara is NOT toxic, he would never intentionally hurt ouma.

> **dog tag noun  
>  Definition of dog tag **  
>  : an identification tag 

It's a late Tuesday night during summer break, where the sun is setting, the air is humid and sticky, and the gentle breeze doesn't seem rather helpful. The moon that night was supposed to be high, illuminating the dark, navy sky, alongside its army of stars and planets- Stars and planets that are all so far, far away; So out of reach.  
Ouma likes to hope The Day is as well. 

Pale limbs intertwine like evergrowing vines on top of cool, black sheets, Ouma's lithe body pressed into a much larger body like a matching puzzle piece. At first glance, the two don't look like they'd fit, but they do, and it's a comfortable moment. Ouma's head rests on Saihara's wide chest, as he listens to the rhythmic drumming of Saihara's beating heart. His eyes are half-lidded, eyelashes fluttering with every gentle, sleepy blink. He's focused on the other's breathing pattern, and he notices almost right away that his own seems to match up with Saihara's subconsciously. He momentarily wonders if he'll have this when the time comes and they reach the end of this life. He forces himself to think about something else.

"Are you asleep, Ouma?" The voice isn't the most melodic sound he's ever heard, but he loves it anyway, embracing the gentleness he's never before had directed at him in all his cold years of living. Er-- Is his life even considered living if he's willing to, essentially, give it all away someday? Should he just consider it making it out alive? No, no... Scratch out that "alive" aspect. Yes, he isn't sure if his life really qualifies for being considered "living." Sad, but true. Many people live that way, Saihara included.  
"Are _you?_ " Ouma replies, voice scratchy and exhausted. He feels Saihara take a deep sigh, his chest rising and falling. He takes a moment to respond before Ouma feels his arms unwrap from around him. He almost feels a deep regret settle within his stomach, but not before it's eased by the feeling of a gentle hand running through his messy plum hair.  
Ouma peers up at the boy, eyes finally meeting. Saihara has this look on his face that says everything he needs to know. Ouma swears that in that exact moment right there, he almost felt the words he desired so strongly to say, bubbling up in the back of his throat. But it tightened up almost immediately after, especially upon remembering how much this meant to the other. He couldn't break it to him, he really couldn't. He's too afraid of brutally crushing to death the hopes and dreams of his first- and probably last- love.

He's appreciative of his inability to express his emotions outwardly, but in the moment, it strikes him; The realization that that means Saihara had learned other tells of how to read him. 

"What's the matter?" Saihara frowns, quite obviously concerned. _Oh, geez... He's too much for my poor heart._ Ouma doesn't think he can handle the amount of unfiltered love Saihara gives him and makes him feel. It's both beautiful, and cruel. "Mmn... Nothing." Ouma gives him a half-assed lie, though he knows the other can read him just as well as he reads those theory articles he loves so much. He supposes that'll be a useful trait when they audition for the roles they want to play. "Ah.. You seem bothered." Saihara appears just as upset now, and though Ouma appreciates his concern, he knows the only thing bringing up his worries will do, is fuck up whatever it is they have going on here. Ouma really wants to avoid doing that, so he steers clear of the topic. He isn't sure what exactly to do right now, but his thoughts are starting to stir and he needs to occupy himself before things go to shit. He opts for reaching for his love's face, cradling his pale, peachy cheeks, and admiring the art up close.  
Their faces are close, and they can feel each other's breath on one another. Saihara lies underneath- He isn't wide-eyed and surprised, but rather analytical. _Don't read into it,_ Ouma silently pleads to the non-existent higher being, who most likely was not listening to a word he said. Crashing their lips together in one passionate kiss, Ouma shuts his eyes and revels in the moment. One day, they might not have this anymore. He wasn't ready to give it up so soon. He had just brought Saihara into his life, and now here he is, already preparing to say goodbye- And so, so soon, at that. 

It feels like desperation at its finest; The fear of losing it all after finally finding it.

Saihara understood somewhat well what Ouma was subconsciously communicating to him through their intimacy. Though, not wanting to completely disregard the other's wishes of not wanting to discuss it right then and there, he also took the moment to indulge in the situation while it lasted. Though Ouma typically liked being the one in control, he couldn't deny the fact he desired distraction more than anything right now. He rolled over, making sure Saihara was now the one above him as he gripped his shirt collar like the world was ending in mere seconds. A split second before they shared yet another fiery kiss, there was a fierce look in his eyes-- No, a desperate plea that begged: "Just let me have this, at least for now." Saihara let his lips travel, gentle kisses fluttering down Ouma's neck until Saihara slowly stopped. There was a moment of silence, an uncomfortable silence. As much as he would love to continue, he couldn't shake off the situation. With his face buried in the crook of Ouma's neck, past the catching of breaths, Saihara spoke up. 

"Please talk to me." 

"About.. what?"

Saihara peered up, eyes catching sight of Ouma, who seemed to be avoiding eye contact by all means. His eyes seemed fixated on something far, far away. "What's bothering you?" He asks the smaller, frowning. There's a long silence, and he fears he's made a mistake with the way Ouma's grip on his collar loosens and he feels him let go. But almost as fast, he feels Ouma carefully wrap his arms around his neck loosely, instead. He still isn't looking at him, but he makes the effort to try and respond. He sighs, his eyes fluttering shut and then batting open again. He takes a second to gather his thoughts, decide his response. "It's... It's nothing." He hesitates, shaking his head and letting his arms slip into a cross on his own chest. "It's about Danganronpa, isn't it?" He doesn't mean to, but something about what he said and the way he said it, seems to elicit a reaction from Ouma. Something of a wince and an expression of... Pain? Saihara isn't sure what exactly Ouma's expression means, but he watches as Ouma slips out from under him and rolls to the other side of the bed, greeted with the sight of his back. "I'm not sure what makes you say that, but it isn't." He says, his tone immediately shifting to something similar to mild disinterest. He's not given any time to respond before Ouma practically leaps off the bed and stretches, turning back to face Saihara. "I'm thrilled for Danganronpa." He grins, but it feels more sarcastic than genuine. Saihara watches him closely, unsure of how to react to the situation. He isn't sure what to say or do. 

Then there's silence. Ouma's looking out the window, as rays of golden sunset disappear behind the horizon line and dusk settles in. It's quiet in the apartment, say for maybe the creaking of the old floors. Other than that, it takes a bit for anyone to really break the silence. Luckily, it's Ouma who does. "Do you still want to?" He asks, his eyes drifting back to Saihara, who stares in confusion. "What do you mean?" He asks. "Even after everything. You still want to, right? You want to be part of Danganronpa." Ouma raises an eyebrow. Saihara wants to be honest, but he's afraid he'd be giving the other an answer he both expected and would be disappointed by. He admits to it anyway, though, hesitantly nodding his head in confirmation. "Hm." is all Ouma replies with. "Ok, I thought so." He says, eyes shifting back over to the window. Saihara sits on the bed, far from Ouma. "You don't?" He carefully inquires, furrowing his brows. "No, I do. I will." Ouma's words are almost immediate. Saihara nods, humming. He peers down to his sheets, thinking for a moment. 

Nothing in his daily life was worth remembering. Everything was so dull, so _boring._ Both of them had agreed on that. Hell, that's one of the reasons they even became friends in the first place. They both could agree that the world was Hell, or at least becoming it. Was Ouma having doubts? If he was, what could've possibly changed his mind in such a short amount of time? Or maybe he was scared...? Unsure? Saihara felt the bed sink beside him, and before he could have a moment to process what was going on, he felt Ouma grasp his hands and drop a cold, small object into the palm of his hands. His eyes flicked up, muted gold meeting a dusty purple. _Such tired colors, really. Life truly felt on the verge of monochromacy._ "What are th--" He began, before the smaller cut him off. "Look at it." His eyes floated down to inspect the small silver chain and tag in his palm. Inscribed on it was the audition date and Ouma's name. He peered back up to Ouma, confusion plastered all over his face. "It's a dog tag." Ouma explained, before pulling out a similar one from his back pocket. 

No-- The exact same one, this time with _his_ name on it instead of Ouma's. 

He held it out for Saihara to see, then clasped it in his hands again and shoved it back in his pocket and looking back over to the window once more. Saihara's eyes followed up from Ouma's hand before pausing to watch Ouma's expression. _Nothing._ He inspected the features of the boy's face- Every small little detail he'd grown to subconsciously memorize and admire over the course of their time spent together becoming friends-- Or, well... whatever they were.  
"Why?" He asked. "Hm. Why not?" Ouma turned to him with a playful smile. 

_"Games are no fun when you don't know who you're going up against."_

**Author's Note:**

> i said not intentionally.
> 
> (also sorry this was shitty. I have written next to nothing this year. forgive me... also please leave constructive criticism.)


End file.
